


Pretty Girls Bleed Flowers

by the_kitchenware



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Depression, Drugs, Eating Disorders, F/F, Homophobia, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Private School, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, all original characters - Freeform, alternatively titled "the kids are NOT alright", trigger warning for the following
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 12:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16492772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_kitchenware/pseuds/the_kitchenware
Summary: "How could a monster make such pretty girls? Pretty girls. Pretty, skinny girls. They look like everything that is wonderful about being alive... And these monsters- not monsters can make you pretty too... And when your body gets too weak, it starts to crumble. But where sick breaks skin, sunflowers will grow. An entire garden will force itself from your empty stomach, billowing out your mouth. And you'll choke, but you'll be happy... Pretty girls, pretty skinny girls, pretty dying girls, pretty dead girls..."-Savannah Brown, "Skinny Girls Bleed Flowers"





	1. Ch. 1, Atticus

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this is a vent piece that I hope to turn into a full book maybe. It's equal parts inspired by the movie Dead Poets Society and the Funhaus au "Switchblades and Gym Class." Both of those inspirations will be made apparent,,,, very quickly. Oh and of course it's also inspired by Savannah Brown's poem "Skinny Girls Bleed Flowers," mainly just for the namesake. All the characters in this are OC's of mine, some of which are from other works which have mostly all been discontinued and/or deleted. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it, anyone that happens to come across this.

{Atticus’ POV}

‘Of course father would flaunt his wealth at a school like this, taking the best car he owns to pick me up.’ Atticus inwardly groans as the car rolls up to the estate her new school resides on. As soon as the car stops, she’s jumping out and grabbing her bag, wanting to get as far from her father as possible. The driver and one of her father’s men begin to grab boxes of things and bring them in for her as her father walks up to where the principal waits. I guess she greets every a-list douche that enrolls their child here, she thinks with a roll of her eyes, walking over when her father beckons her. “Yes, father?” She asks in a monotonous voice.

“This is your new principal, I expect you to treat her with the utmost respect.” He says briefly. Atticus shoots him a two finger salute and he walks back towards the car, having done as much as his ‘parental duties’ require him to.

Then the principal addresses her, fixing her with a no-nonsense look. “Your dorm is room 328, it’ll be on the third floor. Classes start tomorrow bright and early, so I suggest you use today to familiarize yourself with the school layout. There will be no excuses for tardiness. Your class schedule as well as a bell schedule and the uniforms you purchased are already in your room.” Atticus nods disinterestedly and walks towards the entrance, not giving a single glance to the car she can hear pulling away.

Immediately, her vision is filled with stained glass, marble statues, and praying hands. And she can’t suppress her groan of annoyance because it’s just her luck she’d end up in a christian school.

Atticus finds her room quickly, her boxes all stacked on one of two beds in the room. “This day keeps getting better and better.” She growls out, not keen on spending however long lodging with some bible thumper. Needing something, anything, to take her mind off of just how inherently unlucky she is, Atticus starts unpacking, placing clothes in drawers and supplies on what must be her desk.

However, unpacking gets boring, so she abandons her task and decides to explore the school grounds. She picks up her class schedule from her desk and leaves, heading towards the front of the school. 'Might as well do this systematically,' she thinks, even though she knows she’ll forget everything in a matter of minutes. The halls are deserted and pristinely clean, leaving an unsettling feeling in Atticus’ chest. This school looks like something straight out of a demon movie. She shakes the thought and goes back to her adventure.

She reaches a room that piques her interest, a church sanctuary. Large stained glass murals cover the back wall behind a podium and many statues and candles. Atticus walks through the nave, dragging her finger feather-soft over pews and tapping long nails on the polished wood. The walls parallel to her path are spotted with small windows and movement in one of them catches her eye, coming to a stop right in front of the podium.

Out the window is a large garden of stone, statues of religious figures create a maze like pattern. Atticus is quick to find the closest door, hoping to get a better look of the only interesting thing in this school. She has to backtrack quite a bit, but eventually finds a door, making her way over well manicured grass to the very edge of the statues.

In the center of the statues sits a large marble Jesus statue, his arms out in front of them, hands upturned. And most curiously, there’s a girl laying across his lap and arms looking like every edgy teen’s wet dream, her head cradled by one of the marble hands. Her uniform is in disarray, the shirt scrunched up to expose the slimmest line of pale stomach before the hem of her plaid mini skirt begins. Black knee high socks stretch up model thin, long legs, her skirt hitched up on one side to show just that extra inch of thigh. One arm is resting on her stomach gently, the other hanging down, a cigarette precariously perched between slender fingers.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Atticus asks without thinking, as if someone who looks like that would care about class.

The girl opens one eye to look over at Atticus, before closing it again, lifting her cigarette to her lips and taking a long drag from it. “You lost?” She asks, not caring enough to look anymore.

“Nah, I like to break into private schools in my free time.” Atticus huffs, taking a few steps closer so that she’s only a couple feet away now. The stranger lets out a scoff and sits up, now sitting sideways on Jesus’ lap. “I don’t start my classes until tomorrow.” Atticus adds, holding up her class schedule.

The girl snatches it with her free hand, giving it a quick once over before humming and handing it back. “Interesting,” she mumbles and, as a second thought, extends the cigarette towards Atticus as well. “You look like the type o’ gal to partake in nefarious activities such as smoking on school grounds.” She states, adding an extra lilt to her voice than there was previously.

Atticus takes it and inhales deeply. “Spot on. And you look exactly like the type of girl to smoke on Jesus’ lap.” She counters, handing back the fag and exhaling through her nose.

“Non-binary, my friend, but what can I say? I guess it’s a fantasy to be bent over the big guy’s lap.” Before Atticus can come up with a retort, a loud bell rings out through campus. Immediately, the person stands and straightens out their uniform, dropping their almost gone cigarette and snuffing it out at the feet of the statue. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Miss Lancaster. Until next time.” They say, walking away. Atticus is left staring at their back as they leave and only realize once they’re out of sight does she never asked for their name.


	2. Ch. 2, Evangeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh so I wrote a second chapter. It's a bit shorter than the last, but trust me, things will speed up and chapters will get longer in a few chapters. Just need to introduce all the fuckin characters first (there's 6 of them oh lordy). This is the same day as the last chapter, just a different pov. Also I won't be saying whose pov it is in the beginning anymore, each chapter title will say whose pov it starts as (and the pov may change in the middle of chapters later, I'll mark those ones)

Evangeline lays in bed with her eyes closed, earbuds in her ears blasting her favorite songs. Just as she’s drifting into her happy place, small melodic hums coming from her, the door to her room slams open. Evangeline’s eyes snap open as she sits up, but she lets out a breath when she just sees her roommate. She’s still getting used to this, the peculiar new girl showed up only a couple weeks ago.

“Hey, sorry about that.” Phoebe mumbles, walking to her own bed and sitting down.

Evangeline has gotten used to Phoebe bumping into things, slamming things, dropping things, etc, her depth perception permanently ruined by her injured eye. When she first showed up, she insisted that she’d get the hang of it in a week. However, they’re quickly approaching the three week mark and the new girl still has problems with it. It tugs on Evangeline’s heart a bit seeing the bruises and cuts dot her skin, coming and going, being replaced with newer, darker, deeper ones. But if she says she’ll get the hang of it, Evangeline believes her.

Evangeline nods to the other girl, whose eyes are still glued to her form, and then lays back down. Her earbuds came out when she jumped up, so she plugs them back in and starts her music back up. Not even two songs later, something soft hits her face. She opens her eyes and sees a small plush on her chest, looking over to where Phoebe sits on her bed and watches.

“Do you not like me or something?” She asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy.

Evangeline’s mouth opens and closes, partly from shock and partly from trying to get a simple no out. With a sigh, she gets up and pads over to her desk, grabbing a journal and a pen. She opens to the first page and writes ‘mute’ on it, holding it up for Phoebe to see.

“Oh! I feel… really dumb now.” She says with a laugh, then that small head tilt comes back. “Why? If you don’t mind me asking.” Evangeline visibly flinches at the question and can only muster a small shake of her head. Phoebe backs off immediately, nodding and going back to her phone.

Thinking the conversation is over, Evangeline does too, about to play her music again when Phoebe says a quiet, “You know…” Evangeline looks up, wanting to make sure the other girl knows she has her full attention. “You know, I’ll be here for you, right? We may not know each other well, but no one should have to suffer.” Her voice is so quiet and her words so heartfelt that it makes Evangeline’s own heart skip a beat. With a small smile and a light dusting of pink on her cheeks, she nods and turns her music back on.

Later that night, long after curfew had been called, Evangeline wakes up to the sounds of scared whimpers and thrashing around. This isn’t the first time this has happened, her new roommate seems to be plagued by nightmares most nights, others she wouldn’t even sleep enough to dream at all.

Being such a light sleeper, Evangeline always wakes up to the smallest of noises, especially after not having a roommate for the entirety of her private school career. Usually she just lets it pass, either by the dream ending or Phoebe waking herself up, but after what Phoebe said today, Evangeline can’t find it in her to just ignore it.

Instead, she crawls out of bed as quietly as possible, sitting on the floor by Phoebe’s head. She brings her hand up to brush through Phoebe’s hair, said girl flinching the second she’s touched, but after a few small strokes of her hair she gets used to it. When the shaking and tears don’t stop, Evangeline clears her throat and starts to hum a small tune. Once confident enough in her voice, Evangeline starts to sing to the sleeping girl, stroking her hair in time to her slow lullaby. Little by little, Phoebe starts to calm down until finally she’s soundly asleep again. With that, Evangeline gets up quietly and slides back into her own bed, going to sleep herself.


End file.
